Evolving Through Time

My three remarkable children, aged 18, 17, and 15, have entered a phase of their lives that is starting to hit me with the force of a freight train. It's as if time has put on a pair of sprinter's shoes, and my role as their parent is evolving faster than I ever imagined. With every glance back into the rearview mirror of parenthood, I find myself pondering the moments when I could have been more present, more engaged, and more connected with them.

Perhaps, I speculate, I could have been a little less obsessed with sanitizing spills, constantly preparing dinner, or sifting through the day's mail as soon as I stepped through the front door after work. In my relentless pursuit of being 'busy,' I sometimes wonder if I missed the forest for the trees, failing to grasp the essence of their growing up.

As I cast my mind back, I'm taken to a time when I was just a twenty-year-old dreamer, leaving the comfort of my childhood home to chase my ambitions in the bustling heart of New York City. I would return home once a year to visit my dear mother, and with each visit, I would notice the subtle but unmistakable signs of her aging. Her laughter lines had deepened, her step was a bit slower, and her once-vibrant eyes carried the wisdom of time. It was then that I began to realize the inevitability of life's relentless march.

It's a poignant realization that gnaws at me now, as I fear that my own children are on the cusp of repeating the same inevitable cycle. In their quest to discover themselves, they too might find themselves on a path that leads away from the comforting embrace of home, just as I did. Will I, like my mother, watch my children's lives unfold from afar, seeing them less and less each year?

It's a thought that weighs heavily on my heart. As a parent, I've been there for countless soccer games, school concerts, and bedtime stories. But have I truly been there? Have I been fully present in those precious moments that define their childhood? Or have I been merely occupying space while my mind wanders to the never-ending to-do list and the perpetual sense of busyness that engulfs my daily life?

With their impending departures to college and the dawn of their independent lives on the horizon, I find myself reevaluating the essence of parenthood. It's a bittersweet reflection. The realization that my children, these beautiful souls I've nurtured, will soon embark on their own journeys is both a source of pride and a pang of melancholy.

In the quiet moments of the evening, when the house is filled with the hushed whispers of their laughter and the clatter of dinner being prepared, I strive to let go of my concerns about the dishes in the sink, the never-ending chores, and the sense of urgency that adulthood often imposes upon us. It's in these moments that I truly see them for who they are. Not just as children, but as the incredible individuals they are becoming.

As the days grow shorter and the countdown to their next adventures begins, I am making a conscious effort to be 'less busy.' I'm learning to prioritize the moments over the tasks and to savor the unique beauty of these fleeting years. I want to imprint every smile, every tear, and every shared experience in the album of my heart.

Because deep down, I understand that the most profound gift I can offer them is not a perfectly kept home or an elaborately cooked dinner, but rather my unwavering presence, my unconditional love, and my readiness to walk alongside them, wherever their paths may lead.

I'm determined to create memories that will serve as their anchor, a steadfast reminder that no matter where life's journey takes them, they will always have a place to call home. And just as my mother's aging face reminded me of the unstoppable passage of time, I want my children to carry with them the image of a parent who was there, a parent who cherished every moment, and a parent who stood as a steadfast beacon of love, in every season of their lives.